


A New Day

by CapsuleCorp



Category: One Piece
Genre: Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Oral Sex, Post-Time Skip, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-30 01:08:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3917536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapsuleCorp/pseuds/CapsuleCorp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Upon meeting again after two years apart, Sanji needs a little help transitioning back into civilized society. A sequel one-shot to Day By Day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A New Day

The bright sun and fair skies over Sabaody Archipelago formed the perfect backdrop to a long-awaited reunion, or would if it hadn't happened the way it did. Coming across the idiot swordsman being an idiot had put quite a crimp in the cook's style, but he refused to let it keep him down for long. Sanji chewed on the end of his cigarette as they walked, his eyes darting from side to side to follow the movements of every female that came within range of any one of his five senses. The swordsman at his right hand went almost completely ignored, though he had to pay just enough attention to make sure Zoro didn't get separated from him and wander off in the wrong direction. Sanji spared only what notice he crucially needed to, all the rest went to tracking the women passing him by, basking in the glow of their smiles and mapping every jiggle of every curve as they walked, always in some other direction, never to greet him. As they passed through a public market area, it became painfully obvious that even just observing the existence of women in their natural habitat was having an unintended effect on him. Sanji's pace slowed considerably to a meager stroll, at which point even Zoro noticed and broke his long silence. “Oi.”

“Hmm?” Sanji didn't look at him, he was too busy staring at a pair of women out for a day of shopping, tank tops and bikinis and loaded bags of merchandise indicating that they were definitely tourists.

“Why are we slowing down?” Zoro pressed.

It took a moment for the distracted cook to come up with a good answer. “It's crowded in this square,” he noted. “I don't feel like making a scene by blustering straight through all these people.”

“Huh.” Zoro looked him up and down, his good eye narrowing. “You're full of shit.”

That was just enough to snap Sanji's attention away from women for two seconds. “What was that?”

“You heard me.” Zoro took a step or two beyond him, pressing ahead on their journey. “Stop staring and let's get moving. I'm bored.”

“I'm not staring!” Sanji protested. “Don't get ahead of me, seaweed-for-brains, I'm not chasing you down if you get lost again.”

“Then hurry up,” the swordsman groused over his shoulder. “I don't need you babysitting me.”

“I don't _want_ to be babysitting you,” Sanji snarled back, “but I'm not the one who got on the wrong damn ship! Just...come on.” He shouldered past Zoro to lead the way across the market to the best route back to the ship, though his step was less smooth than usual and his posture remained a bit hunched. He stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets and shot his comrade a look over his shoulder to make sure he was following. What he really wanted was to linger in the square as long as possible to take in the sights – and, quite honestly, to pick up any last-minute supplies he thought they needed – but it was a lot less fun with Zoro in tow. Big stupid Zoro and his stupid green bathrobe, and his new stupid scar, and...

“What's the matter?” The question came in a low, secretive tone, almost immediately at Sanji's shoulder. An honest question, an observation that hit too close to truth. “Are you hurt, somehow?”

Sanji sniffed and shrugged it off. “Worried about me, marimo?”

“You're walking funny.”

The cook almost bit through his cigarette in surprise, but contained his reaction to a hastily-stifled splutter. His cheeks flushed, though, and he couldn't stop it. “Come _on_ ,” he insisted through gritted teeth. “Let's just get out of the marketplace, all right?”

They managed to cross the square and duck into a space between buildings, all the better to silently and stealthily slip out of the market without any Marines noticing the presence of pirates, but then Zoro grabbed his companion by the arm and yanked him to a forceful stop. “Out with it,” he demanded. “I need to know if I have to pick up your slack because you're secretly hiding some injury that'll slow you down in a fight.”

“I'm not injured, all right?!” Sanji flung off the restraining hand with a quick whip of his arm and glared right back at him. “It's nothing! Just give me a second and I'll be fine, honest.” He took a deep breath, hoping that it would cool his entire body. It didn't. The walk back to Grove 42 where the _Sunny_ – and the girls! – waited would be torture if he couldn't calm himself down.

Zoro was not at all impressed with this twist in their journey, or the delay. He folded his arms over his brawny chest and faced the cook squarely, frowning in disapproval. “We just met up after two years and you're already being weird. That has to be some kind of record.”

Sanji bristled at him, which only exacerbated his growing issue. That didn't make any sense, though. Why would getting pissed at Zoro make the blood was rush to areas other than his cheeks and neck? Yet he was blushing again, too, no doubts there. “Shut up!” he snapped, turning sharply away. “You're not helping!”

“The hell's wrong with you?” Zoro complained, eyeing him.

From where he stood, Sanji had the smallest glimpse of the street, and just then, another buxom brunette strolled by in a fluttery sundress, and he couldn't suppress the whimper of desire that welled up out of him. He heard Zoro just fine, and instantly lost control of his temper, whirling and slamming into him, using his forearm to shove the swordsman up against the opposite wall. “I just spent the last two years in Hell,” he snarled into Zoro's face, “and right now the last thing I need is you jumping all over my ass about it! When I say let it go I mean _let it go_! Leave me alone!”

Fortunately, Zoro had learned not to rise to the bait every single time, and received both the blow and the screaming in his face with a cool Zen attitude. He only raised one eyebrow to challenge this peculiar argument. “Touchy,” he noted. “It doesn't answer my question, though.”

“Do you really want to know so badly?” Sanji was fully aware of how embarrassing it was to even be under this condition, let alone admit to it. Yet, if Zoro wanted to press him, he was going to be just as embarrassed to learn things about his comrade he never wanted to know. Served him right. Sanji wasn't going to tell him everything, though – there was a lot about that place that he would never tell another soul, if he could get away with it. His fist twisted in Zoro's rough-spun coat, yanking on it to pull him closer for a confidential admission. Nose to nose, he growled in an undertone, “I haven't seen a woman in two years. At all. Suddenly they're everywhere and I just found out what happens when a man is completely repressed for two whole years straight.”

Zoro's good eye continued to narrow as he tried to untangle the cook's fancy words and figure out the meaning. It didn't take long, and then his brows shot up in surprise. “....what? Augh! Get off me, then!”

Sanji let him go with a shove. “I told you not to ask!” The arguing was still making him even hotter under the collar, and he brushed a hand over his eyes in complete shame. “Just...shut up about it already. I don't know how I'm going to walk all the way to where the ship is in this condition.”

“Can't you just make it go down?”

“I've been trying!” Sanji bellowed at him. “It's not working!”

“Well, I'm not going to let your _condition_ stop me from getting back to the ship,” Zoro huffed. “What if I throw you in the ocean, will that cool you off?”

“Piss off!” Sanji snapped with a rude gesture. “You're not throwing me anywhere! You'll just have to sit down and wait, because Nami made me promise not to leave you to your own devices. We're almost ready to go, this is no time for me to lose track of you.”

“Wait for what?” Zoro wondered with a peering look. “...don't tell me...”

As much as it would have been the quickest and easiest solution, even Sanji wasn't interested in just ducking into an alley and jerking off in order to end this ordeal. How crude. “No,” he spat, and then hunted up and down the alleyway for a better idea. “It probably wouldn't work anyway. I need something real...I need a woman, if one will have me.”

“We don't have time for that.” Zoro straightened up off the wall and moved too quickly for the cook to stop him, grabbing him by the arm again and hauling him bodily down the alley away from the market. There were too many temptations that way as it was, but he was looking for something else in particular. One of the buildings to the left seemed to be some kind of storehouse for market goods, a big building without any security, few windows and one convenient door that emptied out on the alley. Zoro dragged his comrade to the door and kicked it open, taking a second to verify that it was nothing more than an unoccupied storage warehouse before throwing Sanji inside and ducking in after him. Closing the door behind him cut off most of the light as well as the last traces of sound from the busy marketplace. They were alone in the storehouse, in the dim, dusty half-light. While Sanji stumbled across boxes and crates, trying to regain his composure, Zoro pushed him further in to a blank wall and then pressed against him, trapping him there. “Drop your pants,” he said gruffly.

For a moment, Sanji was so stunned he lost the ability to speak. His mouth fell open, dropping the cigarette into the dust at their feet, and his entire body went stiff in fear. His two years of hell had made such a thing, the very thought of it, the epitome of his worst nightmare. Only when Zoro's hand came to rest on his waist did he finally snap out of it and move, both elbows flying to dislodge any semblance of touch. “No!” he yelped, taking advantage of the small space created between them to bring his foot up and kick his comrade even further away. “Don't touch me!”

Zoro moved quickly to avoid the blow, reeling back to absorb the momentum and sidestep out of the direct path of that deadly foot. “You said you needed someone else,” he reminded sternly, not deterred. “I'm not good enough? Or have you completely forgotten about all of that shit two years ago?”

Essentially, Sanji had. But Zoro's complaint brought it back rather suddenly, the memories bursting through his shock like sunlight through clouds. The feel of lips on his, of a body's heat and the taste of whiskey and metal, the scent of dusty hotel rooms and sweat and bath oil. He calmed slightly and shrank back against the wall, a fresh round of blushing creeping up from his neck to his earlobes and cheeks. “Shit,” he hissed under his breath. “I didn't...I wasn't...”

“Don't get your pants in a knot, I'm not offended,” Zoro muttered. “I wasn't thinking about it until just now, either.”

“Then what's with the...” Sanji swallowed hard. “What did you say _that_ for, then?”

“You wanted help. I'm helping,” Zoro said plainly. “Unless you'd rather hike back to the ship with your dick getting in the way.”

Debating it was only wasting more time. Sanji was entirely unsure he could say yes to the proposal, but they did have that...thing, two years ago. Whatever it was. If he had thought about it in the days since, he hid those thoughts from himself and sincerely did not remember at the moment. But Zoro was right – he was past the point of a cold shower, just like...just like that first time. In the little house, shut away safely from the very people he was still terrified might be lurking around the archipelago after dropping him off. “What do you want to do?” he asked warily, his voice dropping to a whisper.

Though the cook's behavior was perplexing, even after all they had been through two years prior, Zoro knew him well enough to know how to handle him. He could push in certain ways, but had to back off in others. He edged back towards Sanji, blocking his escape but no longer physically forcing him against the wall, and lowered his head in a quiet gesture of intimacy. He leaned in until Sanji's very aura went icy in fear, and stopped there, face close but not touching, lips offered but not asking. “Nothing you don't want,” he finally answered. “I know it's been a while, and if you're not into that anymore, fine. But I'd rather get this over with so you can walk back to the ship without limping.”

For a moment, their spirits seemed to brush against each other, testing one another without having to use words or even looks. Sanji's eyes flicked up, catching Zoro's gaze with fresh understanding. He knew what that sensation was, or thought he did. He hadn't been expecting to find it radiating from his comrade. “Haki?”

Zoro's expression also softened, as he felt the same thing pushing back against him. He nodded once. “You too.”

“Yeah.”

That seemed like good news. There may have been a better time to find out, but right then and there, the ability to perceive more than the senses could relate reassured Sanji that Zoro was being baldly honest. He wanting nothing more than to finish this off and get moving with their intended plan. The closeness was not a threat. If anything, he could trust the swordsman more than anyone else in the world, in that moment. He acquiesced with the slightest shift in posture, his shoulders relaxing. Zoro took the invitation and brushed a hand against his comrade's fly, finding that he was incredibly hard indeed. “So?”

“Just do something quick, we don't have time,” Sanji sighed, his head lolling back against the wall.

Zoro nodded and then knelt before him, reaching to unbuckle his belt. Sanji tugged up the bottom of his suitcoat and then his shirttails as his pants loosened, though Zoro only pulled his erection free and fell straight to licking and sucking. It wasn't until wet lips surrounded the head that Sanji realized how badly he needed this, and the groan he let out spoke volumes of his appreciation for the favor. The silent storehouse seemed like a good place to take care of this, though he kept his volume down just in case there might be some shopkeeper or dock worker floating around. Well-meaning protective security overhearing suspicious noises in the warehouse was the last thing they needed right now. Closing his eyes, Sanji wilted against the wall and clutched handfuls of his clothing to keep it out of the way while Zoro worked him thoroughly, adding strokes of his strong, callused hand to encourage things along faster. There was no fuss and no finesse about it, just like Zoro himself, but he kept a good pace and combined sensations to do his best to get his comrade off as quickly as possible. Yet, despite how massive and hard Sanji had been to start, it didn't seem like he was getting any closer to orgasm. He breathed hard, stifled moans and cries behind his teeth, and even twitched his hips as if to meet each lap of Zoro's tongue, but the minutes stretched on and he still hadn't come. After a bit, one hand loosed from his coat and moved to clench in green hair, longer now after two years and easier to grab hold of, and in return Zoro sank down even further onto him, taking as much into his mouth as he could and sucking eagerly. It still didn't work as intended. At last, Zoro paused just long enough to tug the zipper down all the way and yank Sanji's pants down enough to reach his balls, and then resumed at an even faster pace while squeezing and fondling his comrade's sack. Sanji bit back a yelp at his daring and then braced against him, letting him do anything and everything he wanted in pursuit of the end. He was gasping, now, his upper body curled over his companion, and his fist in Zoro's hair tugged him closer, demanding more. It was rough and anxious and hot and wonderful, ferocious and intense, but he still hadn't come.

When he realized just how long this was taking, Zoro pulled back and raised his gaze to his crewmate's face. It was good to see the cook like this once again, disheveled and blushing and panting, but he could tell something was wrong – and Sanji knew it as well. “You getting there?” he asked to be sure.

“I'm on the edge,” Sanji admitted, keeping his tone as low as Zoro's, “but I just can't get past it. It's not you,” he hastily added between breaths. “Seriously, have you been practicing or something?”

Zoro managed the slightest smirk up at him and resumed stroking gently. “Nope. Nice to know, though.” He gave the hot shaft in his palm a few fast strokes, the kind that usually got him the rest of the way when he was taking care of his own matters. “Would it help if you closed your eyes and pretended I was a woman?”

Sanji grimaced unexpectedly. “No, and don't even say that again,” he said with unusual tension. “I'm trying! I thought it would be enough...”

“You need more.” Sighing, Zoro let go of him and pushed himself to his feet, and then took the three swords out of the sash wrapped around his hips. “We're wasting too much time, but there's no other choice.”

“N-no...” Two years of complete abstinence, of not even having the time or energy at night to jerk himself off, and now he _couldn't_ get off at all? Sanji hated the position he had been backed into, almost literally. He wasn't sure he was ready to jump back into it quite in this way. He placed a hand flat against Zoro's chest, not pushing him away but trying to warn him all the same. “Just keep going, I'm sure we'll get there eventually.”

“No we won't.” Zoro turned aside as he worked his hands under the sash and beneath the folds of his coat to push up his haramaki and unbutton his pants. “It's not going to be pretty but I can take it. Do what you have to do.”

Sanji startled a little as he realized the parameters of the offer. He opened his mouth to refuse, but the less he thought about it, the better. He watched as Zoro turned completely around, dropped his pants to the floor, and then leaned over a nearby crate to position himself to receive. What he didn't see was the beginning of a blush playing around the swordsman's cheekbones and his own state of arousal hidden in the folds of the coarse green coat. Taking a breath to steel himself, Sanji took a couple of steps to meet him and snaked his hands up under the coat, pushing it aside to expose the waiting ass being offered to him. It wasn't what he most wanted, but it was an offer made in earnest, and he did remember having it before. This wasn't what he feared, either, he was in control. They didn't have anything to make this nice and easy, but his cock still glistened with his comrade's saliva and he could probably manage to return the favor. He spat into his hand and used it to hastily prepare Zoro, muttering an apology anyway because he knew it was going to be unpleasant and rough no matter what he did. He hurried through it and then pressed up against him, double-checking with a quick glance that he was still being allowed before prying his cheeks apart and pushing inside. Despite all things, the swordsman's body was relaxed and swallowed him easily, and in an instant Sanji had pushed fully inside. He couldn't stop himself from thrusting immediately, and muttered another curse as his hips took over almost by themselves. “I don't think I can hold back,” he warned as he gripped Zoro's hips to hold on while he thrust.

“I told you,” Zoro grumbled over his shoulder, “just do what you have to do to finish. We're already wasting too much time.” He was braced against the crate, arms folded, head down, steady and stable. His breathing was even for now, but started to quicken thanks to the punishing pace Sanji had already set. For a while that was all he needed to say, and all the noise he made at all, while Sanji gasped audibly and groaned at the tight space he had been given to enjoy. Then, Zoro tensed, and with the smallest of grunts began to push back against the frantic thrusts. His head bowed even more, almost to his arms resting on the crate in front of him, and Sanji blinked as he realized sweat was beading on the swordsman's thick neck. But, naturally, some part of him thought in a flash, it was warm and stuffy inside the warehouse, and he was overheating as well. In fact, he slowed down just long enough to tug at the buttons of his coat and wrestle out of it, and then loosen his tie away from his throat, so he could resume the pounding with renewed energy. His erection was still stuck in overdrive, and he didn't feel any closer to climax than before, but the sensations granted by slamming into Zoro's available, generously-offered ass were ten times better than the blowjob, and he abandoned himself to the rhythm of it, trying to relax and let it come when it...came. However long that might take.

Another twitch, and Zoro's head came up briefly with a deeper gasp. It was obvious at last, he was enjoying it. His hands slid to grip the far edge of the crate, the better to brace himself to take every thrust as deep as he could. He pushed back against Sanji, shoulders hunching, body stretching like a cat indulging a scratch. Sanji in turn clutched at his hips hard enough to leave marks from the pressure of his fingertips, leaning over him to meld their bodies together and force Zoro to stop wriggling around and just take it. “Come on,” he breathed, begging himself to finish somehow. It was easy from that position to slide a hand down, grope beneath the folds of the coat, and find Zoro's cock to stroke, but he hadn't gotten more than a couple of fingers on him when Zoro's hand intervened and batted his away, in order to do the work himself. It left Sanji searching for a better hold on him, he had to settle for wrapping that arm around his comrade's waist and gripping a fistful of clothing. It wasn't too much longer before the body beneath him tensed and shuddered, and with nothing more than a quick breath and a deep grunt, Zoro reached the finish first. He maintained his position, though, and even shot Sanji a glare from his good eye over his shoulder when there seemed to be the slightest sign of slowing down. “What?” the cook snarled at him, knowing that look all too well.

“Don't stop,” Zoro hissed, and then bowed his head once more.

Gritting his teeth, Sanji renewed his pace, shortening his thrust in order to go as fast as he physically could manage. The idea that he had already gotten Zoro to come was a boost to his ego, and finally, _finally_ , he felt the first twitch of warning that his body was about to escalate things. He focused on repeating whatever was doing the trick, pounding into the muscled body that was clenched around him, hardly even realizing what this was doing to Zoro until he heard the man give a strangled gasp and felt a hand clench over his where it fisted in his sash and haramaki. Somehow, the touch was what he needed. With a few more hard, fast thrusts, he finally felt the building pressure reach a point of no return and then break, and with nothing short of a roar he pulled himself tightly against Zoro in order to empty himself completely. It seemed to take forever to come down, but after a moment or two he opened his eyes to find himself still coupled, still flopped against Zoro's back and the swordsman braced against him, holding him up, as they both panted and heaved in search of breath.

Pausing to listen for sounds of interruption, Sanji pushed himself off and extracted himself as gracefully as he could and then reeled back against a stack of sacks of wheat, needing a minute or so more to collect himself. Zoro straightened up enough to retrieve his pants and tuck himself away, keeping his back to his comrade until he had reassembled the layers around his waist. As he turned, Sanji was able to catch a glimpse of the semen spattered down the front of the crate and the beads of sweat still standing out on the swordsman's neck and scarred chest. Zoro shot him a quick look and then hunted around to find something that would serve to clean them both up in a hurry. There were rags and scraps of fabric around the warehouse, beggars could not be choosers. He tossed one at Sanji and then proceeded to re-situate his swords on his right hip. The lack of commentary made Sanji likewise keep his mouth shut as he cleaned himself off and zipped up, and then had to shake the dust out of his coat. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, “hopefully that won't look too suspicious...”

Zoro heaved a short chuckle. His back was to Sanji once more, his veneer of aloofness sliding back into place as easily as re-dressing. “Feeling up to a long hike, now?”

“....yeah. Yeah.” Sanji pulled on his suit coat and buttoned it back up, similarly avoiding looking at his crewmate. “That's better. For now.” He looked at Zoro's back, and hesitated for a long time, feeling like he should at least thank him for helping or something but unsure whether his mouth could make the words.

“Next time get someone else to help,” Zoro murmured, rubbing the back of his head. “You get one. That's it.”

“Zoro...”

“Let's go.” He turned at last, his eyes dark and devoid of strong emotion, his face blank and businesslike. “The crew is waiting for us.”

Nodding, Sanji brushed down his coat one last time and turned to join him, heading for the door. His conscience nagged him, though, in a way it hadn't for at least two years. Before Zoro's hand could fall on the latch of the door to let them out into the alley, he grabbed that arm and tugged him back. “I didn't forget,” he said quietly even before Zoro could turn around.

The only sign that his words were appreciated was the red blush that appeared at the tips of Zoro's ears. He remained impassive right up until the cook grabbed the front of his green coat and plunged in to kiss him, hard. At that, all bets were off and they managed to waste a few more minutes vigorously making out up against the door. They broke off at the same moment as if coming to their senses, though they didn't back away from one another. Each looked the other over from close range, itching to ask about certain obvious details but both deciding that it wasn't their place to start throwing out questions. It could wait. That didn't stop Zoro from grinning wickedly. “You've got a real beard, now.”

“Shut up,” Sanji growled lazily, grinning back. “I see your hair does grow if you let it.”

“Bite me.” Zoro snorted at him. “Two years of celibacy did this to you, huh?”

Sanji's lips twisted in a frown. “That's right. It's not going to happen again, I'd rather die.”

“Uh huh.” Unimpressed, Zoro grabbed his tie and gave it a yank. “C'mon. There's more important things to focus on.”

“Yeah, yeah, like dragging you back to the ship.” Sanji slid his hand across Zoro's exposed scar and then gave him an amiable slap to encourage him to follow. “Don't wander off, now, moss-head. This way.”

“How do you know which way it is?”

“Because I'm the one with the den-den mushi and a sense of direction.”

“Oh yeah? Where is it then, smartass?”

“Grove 42. You _do_ know how to read signs, don't you?”

“Of course I know how to read signs, asshole!”

They bickered like that all the way across the archipelago, until the opportunity to fight unexpectedly arose. Even then, they barely paused long enough to team up and take down a Pacifista in a single strike, but by then, none of the argument mattered anymore. It was if they had never truly been apart.


End file.
